


you should’ve raised a baby girl

by rosewitchx



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Post-Episode: s06e10 Prickly Pair, Self-Esteem Issues, Steven Universe Future, Suicidal Thoughts, boy has issues gang, connie is god, i csnt tag for shit anymore its 3am, me watching prickly pair: wow this is so mama from the black parade by my chemical romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22029991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewitchx/pseuds/rosewitchx
Summary: he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t move from his spot behind the forget-me-nots and next to the bags of dirt. she finds him anyway. she always does.“hey,” she says, too gentle, after she’s sat down next to him. it’s late at night, isn’t it? she should be home, and instead she’s wasting her time here with him.(and yet he doesn’t want her to ever leave.)(everyone is leaving. is he doing something wrong? he’s so pathetic.)(maybe if he were better, everything would go back to how it was before.)steven is isolating himself again. connie won’t stand for it.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran & Steven Universe, Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Comments: 13
Kudos: 242





	you should’ve raised a baby girl

**Author's Note:**

> title: mama - my chemical romance  
> was tempted to put the whole sentence as a title haha.  
> (you shouldve raised a baby girl... i shouldve been a better son...)

steven doesn’t even react when connie enters the greenhouse. 

he knows it’s her. only she would dare, at this point; he’s been acting like a jerk to everyone, he hasn’t been himself lately, and it’s all his fault, really: he can only blame his mother for so much. this — the thoughts eating at his heart — those are all him. 

she lingers by the door, hesitating. he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t move from his spot behind the forget-me-nots and next to the bags of dirt. she finds him anyway. she always does. 

“hey,” she says, too gentle, after she’s sat down next to him. it’s late at night, isn’t it? she should be home, and instead she’s wasting her time here with him. 

(and yet he doesn’t want her to ever leave.)

(everyone is leaving. is he doing something wrong? he’s so pathetic.)

(maybe if he were better, everything would go back to how it was before.)

steven inhales. exhales. doesn’t say anything, just rubs at his face. he dares look up from within his blanket; connie is looking at him like she’s pitying him and it makes something heavy settle inside him. he feels ill. if he keeps staring at her eyes, he doesn’t know what will be of him. 

connie’s clearly waiting for him to  _ say something,  _ but he can’t. he doesn’t know what to say. he doubts he would have the courage to say it even if he knew. so she eventually continues,  _ clearly disappointed  _ (in him): “pearl told me you were, uh, not doing well.”

steven huffed out a laugh.  _ that’s an understatement.  _ “i’m fine. i just—“  _ don’t know what to do anymore, don’t know who i am anymore  _ “—i just needed some space.”

connie doesn’t buy it. 

(obviously. she’s so smart. how did he end up with someone like her, so out of his league, as a best friend? how does he tell her that he—)

(he can’t ever tell her, the heartbreak would be too much for him to bear—)

connie doesn’t buy it, but she doesn’t push it either. “okay,” she tells him, settling her weight next to him. he tries not to scoot closer to her, even if he does desperately need his friend’s touch right now or he might lose his mind. “you wanna talk about it?” steven shakes his head. “okay,” she tells him, and he’s sure he’s let her down again. (that’s all he does, nowadays. what happened to him? what’s  _ wrong  _ with him?)

the guilt twists his guts. he doesn’t say anything. 

connie brushes hands with him for a moment, then, lingering for just a second, and his heart leaps out of his chest. he sucks in a deep breath and hopes he isn’t being overbearing, or annoying, or  _ useless _ or clingy or  _ violent  _ (which is yet another new thing he apparently is and he looks into the mirror sometimes and all he sees is pink—)

(“you’re so much like her!”)

(and sometimes—)

(sometimes all he wants to do is pull the pink gemstone from his belly and— and—)

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he whispers. he’s afraid, he realizes. he’s scared. “i don’t know how to fix  _ me. _ ”

connie nods. “that’s okay,” she says. “no one knows anything when we’re our age. lars was an asshole, kevin was  _ kevin. _ ” those two names in close succession only make him feel worse — is he gonna cry? “you don’t have to do this alone, okay? we can help, but you  _ have _ to let us, steven.”

“i can’t.” he’s trembling. his mind flashes to volley, to the roses; to lars and sadie and everyone. “i don’t want to hurt you,” he explains. and yes— he’s crying now. shit. “and— and i’ll  _ hurt  _ you, connie— i’m just— hurting  _ everyone  _ now.”

“you’re not.”

“i hurt sadie,” he chokes out. “and the rose quartzes. and lars and the off colors. and— volleyball,  _ i  _ hurt her, and dad, and even my— fucking living  _ cactus— _ “

“okay, let’s calm down a bit, okay?” (condescending.)  _ don’t say that,  _ he scolds himself,  _ she’s trying to help _ .

“i just don’t know,” steven insists, “i don’t  _ know,  _ and i should  _ know better! _ ”

she just sighs. of course: he’s exhausted her. she’ll leave now, probably. he deserves that. he’s a terrible person and an even worse friend. connie deserves better than him. connie— connie should find someone who can treat her with the respect she deserves. 

there’s a hand being waved in front of his eyes. he hadn’t even noticed her getting up. “sitting here isn’t doing you any good,” she tells him, and her eyes burn bright. “you’re gonna freeze to death.”

steven feels tempted to stay, then, but he feels that if he says that connie won’t be very happy. 

“i have issues,” he says. “a lot of issues.”

“i know.”

“i’m a bad friend.”

“that’s your brain talking, steven.”

“i guess— but i’m not that smart, and i’m just so angry all the time now, and— and i’m clumsy and mean and rude and—“

_ (and i want to—) _

_ (to— _ )

“ _ dude, _ ” connie interrupts him, “we’ll deal with it. together. we’ll get you help. i promise.”

steven just looks at her. 

she waves her hand again. “you’re gonna grab it or what?,” she smiles, soft. her fingers twirl at him. 

he’s shaking when he squeezes her hand. she pulls him up as gently as she can and he avoids her eyes. 

and still, when she says: “let’s go, then,” his first response is obvious to everyone:

“okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> suf will be the death of me someone get this kid some therapy jesus christ its like finn adventuretime all over again. self destructive time


End file.
